Dying Alone
by nameless and forgotten
Summary: Lady Glinda was stricken with a high fever that was slowly draining her of every last bit of strength... slightly Gelphie


Lady Glinda was stricken with a high fever that was slowly draining her of every last bit of strength. She had been taken ill with influenza, her body and mind weak and vulnerable after an unusually cold and hard winter in addition to the ongoing war between Munchkinland and Loyal Oz.

Even though years had passed since Shell had officially crowned himself the Emperor of Oz and she had lost her position as Throne Minister to the Scarecrow even before that, she was still concerned by her country's politics.

During her brief period as the top of Oz' government she had made countless attempts at mediation between Munchkinland and the rest of Oz, but as much as she tried, the war had been unpreventable.

At the beginning it had been easy for her to stay neutral, neither siding with Loyal Oz nor Munchkinland, but as the war continued and months, even years, crept by and her popularity had started fading next to the cruelties of war, she had lost many of her followers to one side or the other and lately her life had gotten quite lonely.

The previous year she had retreated to her family's home in Frottica and only three maids and a cook had accompanied her there. Most days, they were the only faces she got to see, with the exception of the town doctor who had stopped by several times since her first symptoms had started showing.

He wasn't the brightest physician, but he was convenient and had tried every remedy in the book on Glinda; without any signs of success.

There were no hard feelings on her side and she knew that she would have had the money to call a more qualified doctor from either Shiz or the Emerald City, but for some reason that option had only briefly crossed her mind. She had overheard rumors of her supposedly suicidal state that had spread from her staff through the whole town, but the truth was she had never thought of intentionally killing herself. Glinda was tired. Not just physically but mentally and she knew she was no longer needed in Oz.

Maybe that had subconsciously been the reason for her uncalled-for modesty, but she had no real desire to die. At least she hadn't had any at the beginning... before her fever dreams had started.

Dreams of sweet torture and they were still the highlights of Glinda's days and nights. She didn't know when the first one occurred or what it had been like, but ever since she had started to see a blurred green face and green hands reaching for her, she longed for her feverish delirium. She had even, in a whimsy, decided not to take the medicine that was supposed to alleviate the fever which resulted not only in the desired, more frequent fever dreams, but also in pangs of guilt.

What she had done was stupid, childish and even, as her staff had already suspected, a little suicidal. Her temperature had already been worrisomely high and now it had climbed even higher. Dangerously high.

The green girl would be the death of her, just like Glinda had suspected back in her college days. In those days she'd had different reasons to. They had been nothing near refusing her medicine and a lot more... pleasant.

In her days of solitude, Glinda's mind often wandered back to her time at Shiz. Even now, after she had lead a fairly long and fulfilled life, the months she had spent with Elphaba had always been her happiest and she missed her only best friend more than ever.

At the thought of Elphaba, Glinda unconsciously straightened her back against the headboard and ran her fingers through her messy curls. Her former room mate was surely the last person that would have minded Glinda looking so dishevelled and yet she was the only one Glinda would make an effort for in her state of illness.

Reminiscing the good old days, Glinda's eyes were just about to close, when she heard a soft knock at her door. Thinking it was one of her maids, she called out a weak "yes", but when the door opened and she was able to make out her guest, she jumped in surprise, pulling her blankets over the old pyjama top that had once belonged to her late husband and that she had chosen to wear for more comfort.

As soon as Liir had entered the room, his eyes fell on Lady Glinda. Even ill as she was, her face almost as pale as the sheets of the bed that seemed too large for her petite frame, and the disarranged hair, she still wore an air of beauty and grace and under heavy lids her eyes had the color of a crisp, clear winter day's sky.

"Lady Glinda," he finally said, suggesting a bow. "Please excuse my disturbance."

"It's... ok," she replied, mustering him with a puzzled expression. Glinda knew she had seen that face before, but at that moment she wasn't able to place it.

"My name is Liir. I met you when I was still a boy, do you remember?" he explained, stepping closer to her bed, watching with relief how recognition started to show in Glinda's features.

"I heard about your illness and I was travelling through this area, so I decided I might as well try to get to see you, ma'am. There's somebody I want you to meet, if you're well enough."

Glinda cleared her throat, carefully reaching for a glass of water on her nightstand. Liir's visit was more than unexpected and she wasn't quite sure for what reason he wanted to introduce her to someone, especially now, but for some reason she nodded. Maybe a little diversion would be good for her.

A smile on his face, the young man turned and opened the door again, revealing a small, dark haired girl with skin of the exact same color as Elphaba's had been.

Eyes wide, Glinda almost choked on her water in surprise, but then smiled at the scared child.

Briefly tearing her gaze away from the girl, she looked at Liir in confusion. "What... How...?," she stuttered, eyes back on the miniature Elphaba.

"She's my daughter. Fae," Liir explained, again watching realization wash over Glinda's face.

"You're her son?," she asked, placing a hand on her forehead, while she was trying to piece the newfound information together. "You're Elphaba's son..." This time, the whispered words formed a statement rather than a question and Glinda's focus drifted off.

Silence settled over the room until Fae slipped out of her father's grip all of the sudden to cover the distance between herself and the bed. In childly braverism she reached for the Lady's hand and squeezed it with affection written on her young features.

"Don't cry, Auntie," she told Glinda in a half-whisper and it was only then when Liir spotted tears slowly making their way down her pale cheeks.

At the touch of the girl's small fingers, Glinda had turned to look at her with a smile dancing on her lips. Using her free hand, she reached up and wiped away the tears, touched by the familiarity in Fae's words. "I'm not."

She was lying, of course, and when she looked down at the tiny green fingers that were wrapped around her own, she felt tears welling up in her eyes once more. Tearing her gaze away from the child's hand, she let it settle on the green face, looking at her with curiosity.

There was so much of Elphaba in her features, but they were softer and Glinda assumed that it wasn't only the natural softness of childhood that characterized her face. Her big brown eyes were framed by long, dark lashes and shone with small speckles of gold and seemed much brighter than her former room mate's dark ones. As Glinda looked at them, she saw much more wisdom and depth in them than was usual for a child of that age, for Fae couldn't be older than five, maybe six years.

Liir watched the mostly silent interaction between his daughter and Lady Glinda with a content smile on his face. He hadn't forgotten how Glinda had asked him if he'd known her Elphie on their first encounter and his instinct about her and Fae had been quite right. The quiet bond that was forming between the small green girl and the Lady was almost visible to him, even as they remained wordless.

Some time had gone by until Fae and Lady Glinda actually started talking. Soft, hushed phrases passed between them that Liir couldn't quite make out. Well aware that he was not in a place to participate in their conversation, he retreated towards the door, still keeping an eye on the two girls.

Talking seemed to exhaust Glinda. She was constantly fighting to stop her heavy lids to drop, even though her azure eyes sparkled more alive than they had been before Fae had entered the room. Tiny beads of sweat were forming on the blonde's forehead and she was breathing heavily.

Carefully observing the signs of Glinda's increasing weakness, Liir waited as long as he thought was appropriate before stepping up to the Lady's bed with regret in his eyes.

"Lady Glinda, I'm afraid I have to break the two of you up. Fae and I need to continue our journey and it's getting dark outside already, not to mention your state of health."

When Glinda met his lowered gaze, he was surprised at the change he could read in her features. Her eyes were swirling with emotions that Liir wasn't able to tell apart, making the blue more luminous than he had ever seen it.

"Thank you, Liir," she told him quietly before turning to Fae who wrapped her small arms around Glinda's weak body in a gesture of goodbye. The two of them shared a smile and Glinda pressed a lingering kiss on the child's forehead. When the girl got up and walked towards the door, Liir moved to fallow his daughter, but Glinda's light touch on his arm kept him back.

"I loved her, you know."

Confusion briefly washed over Liir before he realized that Glinda was talking about his mother. There was a ghostly smile on her lips and her eyes had grown distant.

"Elphaba was my only true love."

Those words were all that was needed. Liir knew he had instinctively made the right decision, introducing the Witch's grandchild to Glinda, though he hadn't known how much it meant to her. He took her hand and squeezed it slightly, before brushing a blond lock out of Glinda's face.

"Farewell, Lady Glinda."

Glinda watched the young man get up and leave the room before she closed her eyes and sunk back into her pillows. Elphaba would live on through Fae.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips and her heart was filled with hope as she felt her consciousness slip away from her, lulling her into a heavy sleep.

The green face was clearer than ever this time and Elphaba's features stood out sharply from the dark background. Her lips were curved into a loving smile and the dark eyes silently urging Glinda to finally accept her offer to join her.

She was closer, too, as if she was standing at the end of Glinda's bed, her fingertips so close that Glinda only needed to reach out to touch them.

Gathering the last of her strength, she sat up, extending her arms until she was finally skin to skin with Elphaba who immediately pulled her up and into her arms and enveloping her in a tight embrace.

.

Had anyone been in the room at the time of Glinda's death, they would have heard the Lady use her last breath to whisper the name of the Wicked Witch of the West as life vanished from her fragile body, but as it happened, there was nobody to catch the barely audible word _Elphaba_.

.

**The End**


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